


Bad Luck for Everyone but Him

by Laylah



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Community: fma500, Dubious Consent, F/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-14
Updated: 2007-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 09:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t want anything from you,” he tells her, his hands closing around his glass, as he debates the merits of causing a scene to get away from her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Luck for Everyone but Him

The moon hangs low and red in the sky, the kind of moon that made people shiver and lock their doors when he was growing up, the kind he’d always loved. Crimson. The blood moon. Bad luck for everyone but him—contrary and left-handed and devil-eyed, and comfortable in the bitter cold that followed in the red moon’s wake.

It’s almost a shame to go inside, but he’s given his military babysitters the slip for once, and he wants to enjoy his night off. So he picks a bar that’s as little like the Devil’s Nest as he can find, and ducks inside.

The light’s too blue, filtering through the smoke that hangs low over the tables, but he doesn’t care, just gets himself some whiskey and a little table by the wall, where he can watch the girl onstage croon and sob her way through songs of love and loss and worthless human needs. The whiskey burns, just right, and there’s nobody here who knows him, nobody here who’ll panic as long as he keeps his hands well-hidden.

Until she walks in.

She comes up to his table without pausing, without even needing to look, and she sits down across from him without asking if he minds.

“You’re one of them,” Kimberly says, eyes drawn to the mark at her throat, his heartrate picking up despite himself.

“And you’re the clever man who sold out Greed for us,” she says, her lips curving up in a knife-edged smile. “I came to thank you.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” he tells her, his hands closing around his glass, as he debates the merits of causing a scene to get away from her.

She leans forward, and her fingertips slide up his thigh, and he feels the prick of something very sharp against his skin. “It’s bad manners to refuse a lady’s gift, Lieutenant Colonel,” she murmurs.

“You’re no lady,” he says, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t stop her, as her gloved fingers unbutton his trousers and reach in to stroke.

“And you’re not ready to die quite yet,” she says, as he hardens in her hand. It’s probably true, so he doesn’t stop her when she slides out of her chair and under the table, heedless of anyone who might be watching. When he looks down, she’s staring up at him, slit-eyed and wickedly amused, and she wraps one hand around the base of his cock as she extends claws from the other. She doesn’t have to voice the threat, just splay those talons out against his stomach as she takes his cock in her mouth.

“I’ll kill you if I ever get the chance,” he hisses, hands clenched at his sides as she sucks him. “You disgust me as much as he did.”

She just moans, the same way Greed used to moan at Kimberly’s threats, and takes him deeper. He closes his eyes, surrendering to the sensation, and shudders as he lets himself go. It’s useless to try to deny them. Better to give in, and let it end.

She licks her lips as she withdraws, and smiles again, sheathing her claws. He thinks of the black cat that used to live in the barn back home, remembers watching it release an injured mouse to see if it would try to run away. He doesn’t move.

“You’ve helped us tie up a rather important loose end,” she says, standing to leave. “We won’t forget you.”

He meets her eyes without flinching. “Likewise.”


End file.
